Cursed (Cursed Magic Series Book One)



  Cursed

  Cursed Magic Series: Book One

  Casey Odell

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 Casey Odell

  Editing by Caitlin Carpenter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  To my mom and dad for always believing in my crazy dreams.

  Marriage proposals. Many women dream of them, but not during the middle of the night by some drunkard. They were a common occurrence for her— her mother that is.

  Claire Tanith stood at the bottom of a flight of rickety wooden stairs in her kitchen and yawned. She really didn’t get enough sleep for this. It would be different if she was actually the one being proposed to for once, and if he was a prince coming to whisk her off her feet. But she wasn’t, and they never were. They were always the bottom-of-the-barrel men, the ones no woman wanted to court, let alone marry.

  Her mother Marion was a legend in their small town of Stockton. She was the sole owner of the Blazing Stallion tavern, and a single mother, raising Claire up all on her own. With hair the color of flames, an hourglass figure, and porcelain skin, not to mention a lively spirit to go along with it all. She was the most beautiful woman in town, and the most sought after. All her life Claire had been woken up in the wee hours of the night as drunken men would come back and try their luck, asking for her mother’s hand in marriage, but they would always leave empty handed, sometimes with a bruise or two. Or on even rarer occasions, a bloody nose and a night in the town jail. If there was one thing Marion was above anything else, it was proud. Her and Claire didn’t need to be taken care of, they were doing just fine on their own.

  Orange light bounced off Claire’s tired hazel eyes. A lone candle burned on the thick pine table to her left. The worn edges told of countless late nights spent telling tales and sharing gossip between mother and daughter over their evening meals. The tiny kitchen had been one of the few private spaces they could escape to after long hours of working in the tavern.

  She’d gotten dressed in a hurry after her mother had stormed into her room, slipping a white shirt and tan linen slacks onto her petite frame before following the older woman downstairs. Her fingers quickly finished off the braid in her long brown hair, the task automatic. She stifled another yawn.

  “Can we just get this over with, Mother? You know I don’t like dealing with those drunks.” It was odd in the first place that her mother had woken her up. She was usually able to deal with them on her own. “Mom?” Claire asked when she didn’t reply.

  Instead, her mother was busy flitting around the kitchen, her flaming red hair piled on top of her head in a haphazard way and a long dark cloak thrown over her nightgown. Her movements were quick and erratic, unlike her usual ease and grace.

  That was odd.

  The first hint of fear quickly chased her drowsiness away. Claire glanced around the kitchen, looking for any signs of trouble. Had someone broken in? But her fears were quickly put to ease when she saw that the door separating the tavern to their living quarters was shut and barred as usual. Marion drew the curtain closed over the small window above the sink, making the room dimmer than it already was. She then came around the small island in the middle of the kitchen towards Claire and shoved something in her hands.

  “Take this,” Mother said in a hushed voice.

  It was a dagger, the one she’d kept under her bed for years. But why was she giving it to her now? “Mom, what is going on?”

  “Hush, Claire! Now listen to me,” she said as she threw a cloak over Claire’s shoulders. Worry lines had formed around her green eyes, making her seem older than her thirty-seven years.

  She couldn’t figure out what had gotten her mother so spooked. The only time she’d ever seen Mother scared was when Claire had gotten lost in the woods when she was about ten. The look seemed foreign on her face and it was immediately followed by the scariest look she’d ever seen. Needless to say, Claire never got lost in the forest again. She happened to value her life, no matter how mundane it may seem at times.

  Faint noises finally registered in Claire’s ears, distracting her from her mother’s words. It sounded like people, crowds moving with an occasional shout or scream. But it was the middle of the night, what could they possibly—

  It was then that she saw it, glancing out the back door window. The bright orange flames reaching high into the sky a few houses down. Claire froze as a cold sweat raced over her skin. That was Mr. Martis’s house. She’d never liked the man, but still—

  “Do you understand?” Mother’s voice snapped her back to the present.

  Claire just nodded, knowing her mother wouldn’t repeat herself. She hated to repeat herself.

  “Stick to the shadows and stay close to me,” she said as she tied the cloak securely around Claire’s throat and pulled the hood up over her head. “And whatever you do, don’t let go of the dagger.”

  Claire nodded. But what would she need a blade for? It was just a fire.

  “Come.” Marion took Claire’s hand and pulled her towards the door that led out into a narrow alley.

  They slipped out into the night, and that was when Claire realized it was much worse than she’d thought just moments before.

  Townspeople filled the street ahead, horror clear on their faces. Many carried small children while others had their hands full of clothes, food, and random objects that may have held some sort of significance to them. Smoke filled the air, making it hard to breathe and causing her eyes to burn. Sounds seemed muffled and faraway. Almost dreamlike.

  A dream. That was all this was. A lucid dream she would wake from at any moment.

  She felt the pull of her mother’s hand and reality came crashing back down around her. As much as she may have wished it, she wasn’t asleep, this was real. Her feet stumbled after her mother, a mixture of adrenaline and fear had turned her muscles into jelly, making her shake all over. She hadn’t inherited her mother’s courage, that would be impossible, after all.

  Marion plunged into the crowd and worked her way toward the other side of the street, pushing through and shoving aside anyone that got in her way, until they were in another narrow alley. Dark and empty, they moved quickly down the alley unimpeded, only pausing for a moment at the end before diving into the chaos again. Over and over they did that, following the same routes Claire had grown so familiar with over the years. Only there was something strange: they were heading in the opposite direction of everyone else.

  Surely her mother couldn’t be lost. She knew Stockton better than Claire did. She was the one who had taught her all the shortcuts, after all. No, Mother didn’t intend on following the fleeing townspeople, but why?

  Claire struggled to keep up with her mother’s longer strides, her breath becoming heavy, her throat stinging from the smoke. And just when she thought her lungs were going to burst, she slammed into the back of her mother who’d stopped short.

  They had reached the town center, but what was once a bustling marketplace, was now a burning wasteland. A wall of orange and red flames stretched across the center, emitting a fierce heat and dreadful flickering lig
ht. Shop stalls lay overturned, their contents strewn across the street. A sad looking doll lay in the dirt with half of its ceramic face smashed in, its lone eye left to witness the devastation.

  Claire peered around her mother, who stood unmoving, and followed her gaze to the center of the square.

  Huddled behind two overturned wagons were a handful of soldiers from the town’s defense squadron. Each of them took turns rising up to shoot an arrow off into the flames.

  The townspeople had fled more than the fire, it seemed, but what had they fled from?

  Claire grasped the dagger tighter. She wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to find out. Marion stirred finally, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her into the shadows. Her pace was slower as she edged north along the town center, picking her steps more carefully, throwing wary glances at the men from time to time.

  Metal clanged in the distance, barely recognizable over the roar of the fire. Claire jumped at the sound. They were being attacked, but by who? Stockton was a small town, not very rich, but peaceful. Who would want—

  But before she could complete the thought, something crashed through the barricade the soldiers had set up. Claire and her mother stopped dead in their tracks at the thunderous sound. A large beast reared up before one of the men and stabbed him through the chest with a crude wooden spear. But it wasn’t just any beast, it was a centaur.

  Claire stared, her eyes wide in shock. She recognized the beast from the tales she’d heard as a child, but she never once believed that they actually existed. She would have sworn it was all a dream again if it weren’t for the physical pain her body was suffering from, and for the spine chilling scream of the dying man. The beasts were real. But they looked like the stuff from nightmares rather than anything found in a fairytale.

  Almost twice the man’s height, the centaur’s body was thick and muscular, devoid of armor, and smeared dark with mud and other things— things she didn’t want to know about. The lower half of his body looked like that of a horse, the solid kind used for plowing fields with hooves that could easily crush her head. An ugly scarred face twisted into a snarl as he drove the man to the ground with his spear.

  Her heartbeat in her ears, Claire stood as still as possible, desperate not to be noticed. Her knees shook, threatening to give out from underneath her. She didn’t have the strength for this.

  The men scattered as two more centaurs burst through the flames. The beasts smiled as they started to chase the men, swords drawn, as if it were some sort of game. Screams echoed throughout the plaza as one-by-one the men fell.

  Claire felt her breath stop. She knew those men once, had served drinks to them in the tavern before. To see them get slaughtered right before her eyes was too much to bear.

  Marion pulled on her hand once more, gently at first, but when Claire didn’t move, she yanked her violently back into reality. Claire stumbled on her feet, almost falling to her knees. They slipped down another alley away from the gruesome scene. Claire could only hope her friends and the rest of the townspeople had gotten away safe before anything like that could happen to them.

  When they reached the end of the alley, they didn’t stop. Her mother ran out into the deserted street, dragging her along at a furious pace, not bothering to stay in the shadows. Claire clutched the dagger tightly to her chest, holding on to it as if it were the last real thing in the world that was crumbling down around her. She lost track of where she was going. Images became a blur through a wall of tears gathering in her eyes. Everything had been fine earlier. The day was like any other, sunny and warm. How could things have changed so suddenly?

  Moments felt like an eternity as they ran. Claire could have sworn she heard hooves pounding on the dirt behind her, but she didn’t dare look back. She just had to keep going. Mother was there, after all. Everything would be fine.

  Her mother started to slow as they reached the end of another alley. They had reached the north side of town with the wide open fields and beyond that the forest. Marion stopped, her shoulders heaving. Claire wavered slightly, her head light. She struggled to catch her breath. A sharp pain pierced her side. She was grateful for the break, but not at the expense of their lives.

  “Mom,” she whispered. “Why are we stopping, we need to go!”

  Her mother remained quiet, her gaze sweeping over the field. But her eyes seemed more sad than scared.

  The field was oddly peaceful compared to the chaos behind them, but the forest loomed in the distance, dark and uninviting. She’d never stepped foot in that forest, forbidden by her mother and feared by the townspeople. Many believed it to be cursed, so much so that’s what they started calling it, The Cursed Forest. Children would play games, seeing how far they dared to enter before rushing back out again. Why would Mother take her here when they should have fled with everyone else?

  “You’ll be safe in there, Claire,” she said finally, her voice oddly calm. “They’ll protect you.”

  “What—?”

  Mother cut her off with a fierce embrace, her arms wrapping around Claire tight. “My little Claire, my dear little Claire. I will see you again, I promise.”

  The realization hit her then: her mother didn’t intend to come with her.

  “No!” Claire pleaded, clinging onto her mother. “Don’t leave me! Why are you doing this?”

  “They’ll kill me, Claire.”

  “The centaurs will kill you if you don’t come with me!”

  “It’s not them I speak of.” She began to pry Claire’s arms from around her. “Now go. I will be fine.”

  “No!” Claire shouted, not caring if she was heard. She was not leaving without her.

  Marion shoved her forcefully into the field. “Go!” she yelled. “I will catch up with the others.”

  “Then I’ll come with you!” Claire stepped back toward her mother. “I don’t know why you brought me here.”

  “No!” Marion shoved her back again.

  Claire staggered and fell into the grass, the dagger falling from her grip.

  “You mustn’t get caught, Claire!” Mother said. “Go to the forest, you’ll be safe there.”

  “But—”

  “Go!”

  A piercing howl cut through the night before her mother could say anything else. A centaur barreled along the edge of town, hooves hammering the earth under him. He was coming for them. Claire looked up at her mother. Why was she sending her to the forest alone? And what did she mean by they? Were there people living in the forest?

  “No matter what happens, just remember that I love you, Claire.” A solemn smile touched her face. “Don’t worry. This ol’ broad can handle a centaur or two.” Then she began to wave her arms in the air to draw the beast’s attention.

  Claire’s voice caught in her throat. She wanted to call out, but the words never reached her lips. All she could do was watch. Watch as her mother turned away to disappear into the town once again. Watch as the beast dipped into an alley further down to follow. Watch as the only life she had ever known burned to the ground. Her friends, her home, and the only family she had left had suddenly been ripped away from her. It all happened so fast, she wasn’t sure what to do. How to feel.

  A fine tremble spread through her body as she sat unmoving in the field. Tall grass swayed just over her head. Tears started to stream down her cheeks in a sudden rush. She wanted to chase after her mother, but her body was frozen, from fear, from shock.

  Smoke began to seep out onto the moonlit field. The flames from the town flickered against the growing cloud of smoke above in a nightmarish visage.

  Another howl cut through the air, shaking her from her trance. Quickly, Claire scanned the field, her heart racing. Her breath caught when she saw the beast several paces to the west. It looked like he hadn’t spotted her yet, but she didn’t want to wait and find out.

  Claire glanced around for the dagger, finding it a few feet away in the grass. She reached for it slowly, careful not to disturb the grass around
her, then climbed to her hands and knees and began to crawl towards the dark forest. The grass rustled softly in her ears as she pushed her way through, the earth felt cool and soft.

  Wet drops fell onto her hands, the tears falling silently from her eyes. She had tried not to cry. She wanted to be strong, like her mother, but the stress proved to be too much. Everything was happening too fast. She felt helpless. Weak.

  “Is tha little bird tryin’ ta escape?” boomed a deep voice from behind her.

  All the muscles in her body froze up as stiff as a board. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t heard the beast approach. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder. The centaur loomed above her with a smirk across his lips. Everything about him screamed ‘thick’: thick body, thick neck, thick accent. He carried a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, which he tapped against his shoulder. His upper body was dark and glistened wet in the moonlight; she wasn’t sure she wanted to know with what.

  Her arms collapsed from underneath her and she sat on the ground, trembling, waiting at his mercy. There was no use in trying to run now. She would be good as dead even if she tried. She was caught— the very thing Mother had risked her life in order to prevent. And so soon after she’d left Claire on her own. Mother would have been so proud. That is if she was to ever see her again, but that didn’t seem likely anymore. Mother’s plan had failed, and it was all Claire’s fault.

  The centaur threw back his head and laughed, his long black hair sweeping across his bare shoulders. She waited, watching the large beast with wide, terrified eyes. She sure didn’t find her situation all that funny.

  “Let’s have a little fun, shall we?” he said with a hint of amusement. “Tha hunt is much more excitin’ than a massacre.” He pointed the arrow in his hand at her, the sharp metal tip inches away from her face. “You’ll live if ya can escape from me. If not, I’ll have my fun.”

  Claire looked up at him, a glimmer of hope returning. She could feel her limbs shake with anticipation. There was still a chance, however slim it may be. But she had to try. At least for her mother’s sake. Something dripped off the arrow onto her knee and she jerked away. He drew the tip up to his mouth to lick the dark liquid, then closed his eyes for a moment as if to savor it.

  “I’ll even give ya a head start.” He then swung the arrow down at her, but she was able to dodge at the last moment, rolling away as the tip dug into the ground next to her. The beast’s laugh boomed from behind her.

  Gripping the dagger in her hand, Claire struggled up to her feet, her heart pounding. Her legs threatened to give out on her, but she pushed on. This may be the only chance she would get. With a last burst of energy, Claire ran towards the woods, the beast’s laugh following on her heels. Cursed or not, anything seemed better than to be at the mercy of a crazed centaur.

  Moonlight filtered in through the treetops as she plunged into the forest. Claire wove her way through a maze of shadowy trunks, hurtling deeper and deeper into forbidden territory, her cloak catching on branches, brush scratching at her boots. The ground started to slope up, making the run for her life that much more difficult. The sharp pain stabbed through her side again. She wouldn’t be able to keep up such a pace for much longer. Her steps grew heavier and heavier.

  She went flying after her foot caught on an exposed tree root, and she hit the ground hard, sending a resounding thud throughout the forest. The dagger landed several feet away, lost in the dark.

  Claire stayed motionless on the ground, trying to keep her breathing even, and listened. It was quiet. Too quiet. But she knew he was out there. Somewhere. He’d probably heard her too with all the racket she had been making. The lack of sound in the forest around her was unnerving. How could such a big beast make so little noise?

  Carefully, she got to her feet and leaned against a tree. She peered around the trunk into the forest. Still nothing.

  “Come out my little birdie.”

  Claire jumped at the centaur’s voice. She spun around, her eyes searching. His voice bounced off the trees, making it hard to pin-point exactly where he was.

  Something struck the trunk behind her with a loud thunk. Claire froze. Slowly, she turned her head and found an arrow lodged into the bark mere inches away.

  He’d missed.

  And she had a feeling he’d meant to. He was toying with her. She had to get away, or next time she might not be so lucky.

  Claire ducked to the other side of the tree and took a deep breath before taking off again. This was it. If she didn’t get away this time, then she would be done for. She left her mother’s dagger. It would be useless if she were caught, anyway. She didn’t really know how to use it. Not against a fearsome beast.

  The ground gave way and Claire stumbled down a sudden decline, the momentum propelling her forward. It took everything she had not to fall and to avoid the trees in her way. Her arms and cloak flailed out around her, her boots sliding on the dirt and leaves. She collapsed to the ground when she reached the bottom of the hill and crawled over to a rotting tree lying on its side.

  She curled up in the shadows, making herself as small and hidden as possible, and covered her mouth and nose with her hands so her breathing wouldn’t make so much noise. With her eyes clamped tight, she listened. The heavy sound of hooves came closer, pounding the earth on top of the hill.

  “Where did my little birdie go?”

  Claire’s heart spiked. She was so close to being found. So close to a horrible death. She could feel a sob start to grow inside of her. No, she couldn’t start thinking like that. She thought of the song then. A silly little tune her mother had always hummed to her whenever she had been afraid as a little girl. It still comforted her to this day. Slowly, the sob died away, her nerves easing a bit. She listened for the centaur again. The beat of his hooves sounded like they were moving away deeper into the forest.

  When she couldn’t hear the beast anymore, Claire took a deep breath, careful not to make too much noise. There was no telling where exactly he was. The smell of mold and rotting wood filled her nose, almost overwhelming her. After a few seconds, she got to her knees and peeked over the tree. No sign of the centaur.

  With another deep breath, she pushed back to her feet and urged her body on. Her steps were light and cautious. She couldn’t be found again. Her body was at its limit.

  The forest grew still once more. Almost peaceful. The trees seemed to grow bigger the further she went, their tops soaring overhead. Brush became sparse and green mold covered the massive trunks like a carpet. Pools of silvery moonlight dotted the forest floor. A sweet smell teased at her nose as she passed by a small clearing filled with wild flowers. It was as if she had entered a different realm. Quiet, beautiful, but strangely eerie.

  Dread filled her once again. This was the Cursed Forest. She may have evaded the centaur for now, but here was still a curse to contend with, whatever it may be. Claire wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. She had already come this far. What was a curse compared to a mad beast? One problem at a time. She would deal with the curse later.

  After a little while, Claire leaned against a tree and rested her head back against the rough bark. Fresh air of the forest filled her lungs as she took long deep breaths, allowing her body to relax. Tension seeped away as she closed her eyes and listened. The forest remained quiet. The only sound came from the treetops rustling overhead from a slight breeze.

  But just as she was thinking she may have gotten away, the centaur’s howl cut through the forest.

  Claire jumped back to attention, her muscles trembling with the sudden rush of fear. She turned and looked around the trunk in the direction of the noise. It sounded distant, but not distant enough. The beast was still out there and he wasn’t likely to give up so easily.

  The centaur howled again. Her fingers dug into the tree bark. Why was he howling like that? The beast’s cries turned into blood chilling screams, and then they were cut short altogether.

  Th
e forest fell unnervingly quiet once again. Claire’s heartbeat thrummed in her ears. Something had happened to the beast. Something, or someone, had gotten him.

  But before she had time to think about it anymore, she heard a branch snap behind her followed by a strange whooshing noise. Claire whirled around, pressing her back up against the tree. It took her a moment to comprehend what she saw. The tip of an arrow hovered inches away from her face, seized at the last instant. She’d forgotten how to breathe at that moment. A second later and she wouldn’t have had to anymore. Her eyes followed the hand holding the arrow up to a figure obscured by shadow.

  “Hold your fire,” said a deep voice, and then the figure dropped the arrow onto the ground.

  The shadow grew blurry as her body finally gave in to fatigue and, then there was darkness.